


A King a Queen and a Warlock

by DollopheadedMerlin



Series: A King a Queen and a Warlock [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Asexual, Asexual Character, Asexual Merlin, Asexuality, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Polygamy, ace - Freeform, asexual polygamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 11:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4346273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollopheadedMerlin/pseuds/DollopheadedMerlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur admits his feelings for Merlin and confessions just seem to lead to more confessions.<br/>A.K.A. the one where Merlin, Gwen, and Arthur are in a polyamory relationship and Merlin is asexual. Also things get complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A King a Queen and a Warlock

**Author's Note:**

> There are never any poly fics except for Merlin/Gwaine/Arthur so I thought I'd change that.

They had an arrangement. That’s what Arthur called it, though Merlin thought it was just him being an irritable prat by not using a kinder term. Both Merlin and Gwen would argue against him, given the chance. In their minds, it was a relationship.

Merlin had revealed himself to Arthur nearly two months ago. It’d been a strange occasion, really. Merlin had been silent the whole day as he, Arthur, and the knights rode out on a patrol. The latest attack on Camelot had left them all a bit shaken, Morgana having put all the effort she had into taking over Camelot with an iron fist. She failed however, because of Merlin, because of magic.

But none of them knew that. All they knew was that a mysterious hooded figure had appeared to vanquish the witch, succeeding in driving Morgana away licking her wounds. Then, he vanished, and if anyone thought it odd that Merlin was found amongst the rubble the next day, nearly dead from pure exhaustion, no one mentioned it.

However, the kingdom’s attitude towards magic did change after that. Arthur, after much counseling from advisors and friends alike, lifted the ban on magic, seeing it to be a helpful tool in the war against Morgana. Had it not been for that one unknown hero, the city surely would have fallen.

But now they were on yet another patrol, following tracks that Merlin knew would lead them nowhere considering they were trying to find him, track down the sorcerer who had saved them all and give him recognition.

Merlin had tried to advise Arthur that the sorcerer might not want to be found. He tried to tell him that the man might be a hermit or a recluse and did not want any sort of attention. He tried to tell the king that people would still treat him badly on the grounds of their own prejudice rather than abiding by the new laws. He tried to tell him that it was still dangerous for a sorcerer in Camelot. But he would not listen.

So, there they were, on the umpteenth hunt for the man who was standing right beside them.

He’d given a lot of thought and, though he felt resigned and hollowed out, he decided it would be best to tell them.

“We are not going to find the sorcerer at the end of this trail,” Merlin said dryly, breaking the tense silence.

“And what makes you think that, _Merlin?”_ Arthur countered, sick of his servant’s pessimism. He’d grown to shun Merlin over the past few weeks after hearing his many excuses as to why they should not follow through on their savior.

“I know where he is,” Merlin said simply, not looking anyone in the eye as they rode.

“You do?” Leon questioned.

Merlin nodded.

“Well?” Arthur prompted after a long silence.

“You’ll see,” Merlin muttered before he clicked his tongue and hurried his horse ahead of the group.

The knights were all bemused by Merlin’s behavior to say the least and Arthur felt a twang of guilt rise up in his chest at Merlin’s confession. If he knew where he was, than perhaps he was acquainted with him and had been completely justified in telling Arthur not to look for him. Regardless, he did not question the boy, their banter having had subsided over the past few fortnights, Arthur having frowned upon the sulk Merlin had fallen into. He felt it wrong to treat him as he used to.

It wasn’t until later in the day, when the knights had all but given up looking for the sorcerer, that Merlin spoke again. He stoked the fire until it was steady with hot flames and embers. Then, as the knights gather around for warmth and the tense silence returned after the hustle to set up camp, Merlin swallowed his fears and told them.

“I am a sorcerer.”

The silence stretched on as everyone stared at him, disbelievingly, all trying to find a hint of amusement or lie in the servant’s face. But he just sat there and stared at the fire with vacant, glazed eyes that were bright with unshed tears.

It took a long while for Arthur to forgive him. They all left the camp that night, without another word uttered by anyone, but Merlin didn’t move. As the king and his knights filed away from the clearing, he remained; left there without anything but the clothes on his backs.

 

 

 

The next dawn broke and Merlin wearily rose to his feet, shivering in the cold morning chill as he slowly walked back in the vague direction of his home. It wasn’t until after two days of strenuous, uninterrupted walking when he came upon one of Camelot’s patrols and crumbled into the arms of Sir Percival.

They took him home and Arthur was a mess of emotions, trying and failing to forgive Merlin as well as himself. Gaius took his ward and forbid anyone from seeing him whilst he recovered in isolation.

Merlin slept for days, whether it was purely because of his exhaustion or because he was simply unwilling to face the world, not even Gaius could tell.

 

 

 

When Arthur had returned without Merlin, Gwen was hot on his case until he confessed what he had done. He hadn’t meant to leave Merlin but he couldn’t bear to face him after what he’d been told. So, when the boy made no signs of moving from his spot by the dying fire, Arthur paid no effort in rousing him from his daze. The knights obediently followed, some equally as stricken as Arthur.

With a good scolding from his wife, Arthur was sent to Gaius where the old man told Arthur the legends and prophecies that Merlin had received. But, he also acknowledged Merlin’s selflessness and willingness to protect Arthur regardless of what the gods had to say about it. Merlin saw Arthur as a true friend and was loyal to him with no bounds. And Arthur knew that now and he didn’t know what to feel.

 

 

Merlin woke after four days of rest, completely frazzled, shaking from head to toe and mumbling things unintelligible. Arthur begged Gaius to let him see the boy but all were banned from visiting him, regardless of rank or relation.

The poor boy was delirious for two days after that, mind having been muddled and broken upon abandonment. However, he recovered all the same and Gaius finally let him have visitors when he woke after his last prescribed sleeping draught.

 

 

Arthur was by his servant’s side the instant the door was open and he held Merlin’s hand in his own, pleading for his forgiveness despite the doubt and hurt and betrayal that still stung behind his eyes. But Merlin awoke slowly that morning and was utterly bewildered by Arthur’s ramblings. So, the king was only ever stopped in his stutter of words when the boy began a silent laugh, squeezing his friend’s hand with hope anew in his chest.

They spent a good two days talking about nothing but themselves and what had become of them. By the end of Merlin’s long tale of dangerous feats and wondrous sacrifices, any doubt that Arthur had had been diminished, crushed by the undying loyalty that beamed from his dearest friend. Then, even after they were done talking, Arthur having dissected every part of Merlin’s life, down to every little secret, from using magic to do chores to commanding the elements to his very will, they stayed together.

Merlin followed Arthur from his room and they took a long walk out to the stables. There, they rode off into the woods where Merlin showed him his magic. His eyes flashed gold as the dew drops on every leaf leapt into the air and hovered around them, glistening in the day light. He made the trees sing and the grass sway. Eventually night came upon them and they deemed it too late to return to Camelot. So, they built a fire and huddled together for warmth, having left all provisions behind.

Arthur woke to find that Merlin had left his side and was standing on the other side of the fire, causing the smoke to take the form of two figures. Upon closer inspection, Arthur realized that it was himself and Gwen, dancing in elegant silks with smooth steps as the ashes and embers rose up around them until they disappeared.

The king marveled at the art Merlin created but his smile fell as he felt a warmth rise up in him. He loved Gwen with all his heart and yet, standing before him, was the man he cared for most in the world. He almost wished that he had never met Gwen. That way the longing he felt turn in his stomach would not cause him the guilt.

Merlin seemed to notice his melancholy and the smoke was released from his will. He looked sadly at Arthur through it but the king looked away, the guilt rising even more as he realized that Merlin shared his thoughts.

 

 

Life went on as it always had; Merlin serving Arthur, Arthur seeking advice form Merlin. The king and queen were happy and so was Merlin, for them. But love was love and it could not be stopped and it turned inside of Arthur, pulling him in two different directions that he could not control.

Eventually the internal war was too much and one night, after Gwen had dined with him, he bid Merlin to stay and asked him to sit.

There, before his wife and his servant, he confessed his affections for Merlin, leaving Gwen in a merry shock and Merlin in a bashful surprise.

It went far better than he had expected to say the least. Gwen had completely understood Arthur’s feelings (especially having fallen for the boy once, a long time ago), and was the brilliant mind behind their relationship, or arrangement, as Arthur would have it.

Merlin confessed that he too had a romantic interest in his master and that his willingness to lay down his life for Arthur’s was fueled by this affection, not by the laws of destiny. His devotion was to a friend not a duty and it warmed all their hearts to hear him say it. But, along with one confession came another. Merlin nervously explained to them both that he had lacked something, something nearly everyone had. He didn’t understand it and the way it drove the people around him. The lust for others was foreign to him. He did not comprehend the desire for one’s body over the longing for the soul. And suddenly all of Merlin made sense; his ginger movements, the way his fingers dance around Arthur as he dressed him, not once ever touching his skin, the way he adverted his eyes when Arthur bathed, and the way he cringed at the sight of even a naked thigh.

And so their relationship began. Merlin and Arthur shared their romantic attractions whilst Gwen pleased the king in bed, where Merlin would never dare to go. Gwen and Arthur often encouraged him to sit beside them under the covers on nights when no engagements had been planned, but he would always blush tremendously and insist that the night was their private time and he’d need to do errands for Gaius or something of another ridiculous sort.

It wasn’t until after a few more tries that they confronted him, asking him why he felt so uncomfortable. He claimed that he felt like an intruder, coming in between the king and queen in the one place that they shared alone. He did not have affections for Gwen, beyond the friendship that they shared and so he felt wrong to sleep beside her, no matter how much she insisted that it was okay.

Eventually, he warmed up to the idea, after a long quest with Arthur. They were alone for many days, left to their own devises as they tracked down another magical beast. Merlin’s powers were still a secret, only known to their small inner circle, and he declared that he and Merlin would travel alone on missions such as this, where the use of magic would be mandatory.

One night, whilst they were warming themselves by the fire, Merlin had rolled up on his pallet and had almost fallen asleep when Arthur called out to him.

“Merlin,” he whispered, the wind carrying his quiet voice to Merlin’s ears.

Merlin turned to him with tired eyes and shivered against the winter chill as his blanket slid from his shoulders.

“Come here,” he uttered, “it is cold. We would warmer by each other’s side.”

And Merlin wanted to refuse, wanted to deny that he was cold, and wanted to leave Gwen her man for sleeping. But he didn’t. The chill that swept through him pushed him onward and he found himself crawling towards his king before he could stop. Then, Arthur was beside him, holding him tight and he felt so warm.

 

 

When morning came, Merlin was startled to find Arthur so close to him, taking a moment to remember what he’d done. The morning brought a bright sun and the ice seemed to have vanished from the air. With the cold gone, Merlin found that he wanted nothing to do with Arthur’s limbs and wriggled out of his grasp until he was in the cool grass beside him.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur muttered, blearily looking at Merlin through his lashes.

Merlin held himself then, looking away from Arthur as his ears turned red.

“Oh, right,” Arthur recalled, “the touching.”

But Arthur scooted closer to Merlin, wanting a few more minutes rest. Merlin stiffened, not wanting to be enveloped again, hating the thought of his body so close to his, the thought of something so intimate. It didn’t make sense to Merlin. He didn’t see what pleasure one could gain from it. In his eyes, it was nothing but getting tangled up with someone and waking up to a bed too warm that caused you to sweat, sticky, slimy sweat. He felt so uncomfortable as Arthur rolled over, coming closer, wanting to be pressed against him and he braced himself, trying to hide a cringe. But then he stopped. Arthur stayed just a small space form Merlin, looking at him as they lay side by side. Merlin turned his head and their noses were a hair’s length from touching, but they weren’t. And when Arthur felt Merlin’s eyes on his, he opened his own and smiled at him.

“This better?” Arthur asked, half asleep.

“Yes,” Merlin muttered, beaming back at him. Then, he leant forward and touched Arthur in one of the few ways he was comfortable with, planting a light kiss on his lips before returning to his slumber. Arthur grinned at Merlin’s shy way of showing affection. As much as he teased the man for it, he loved it.

 

 

After Arthur told Gwen what had happened on their quest, she tried once more to have Merlin join them in slumber. This time, though hesitant and shaky, face red as an apple, he climbed in beside them. He was thankful that they were all fully clothed, probably especially just for him. He slept on the edge of the bed, beside Arthur, never touching. Gwen dreamed against Arthur’s chest and Merlin smiled at how peaceful she looked. He felt content in the soft, heavenly blankets of royals, sat beside the man he cared about more than anything and amongst one of his dearest friends. Though he did not tangle his limbs like most other men did when sleeping with a loved one, he felt this was intimate enough, being comforted not by touch or embrace, but by presence.

 

 

Occasions when Merlin would sleep with Gwen and Arthur became more common, though they weren’t as frequent as Gwen had hoped. Arthur began meddling with their _arrangement,_ as he called it, by purposefully leaving Merlin and Gwen alone so that their relations for each other might grow.

He had no such luck. Though Gwen may have lusted over Merlin when they had first met, those feeling had long since been placed elsewhere. So, whenever Gwen and Merlin would return form an outing together, Arthur would be fuming with embarrassment when one of his jibes at love was shot down again and again.

They did however, become closer. Merlin and Gwen began to stray from Arthur of their own accord, going for picnics and shopping in the market. Merlin was also becoming more like a servant to Gwen than he had intended, helping her pick out dresses, try on jewelry, and she’d often request that he do her hair because, “There’s no one better at braiding than you, Merlin.”

There came a time when they all thought that Merlin’s involvement in their relationship had to be known. However, instead of making a royal announcement or spreading the word, they simply began to weave their affections into everyday life, sharing kisses whilst with the nights or standing closer than they ought to during meetings.

Word soon got out and Merlin was beside himself, running all over the place and doing extra chores to keep his mind off of things. Finally, Arthur had to literally drag him out of his fretting to assure him that the people had welcomed the change. Merlin was positive that there would be those who’d stand against it or try to prevent it, but the reassurance that the overall populous had not objected to it gave him hope.

However, rumors would plague the castle on the nights when Merlin would not leave Arthur’s chambers until morning. Lies would roll off the tongues of gossiping maids at the end of each quest or patrol when someone spotted the two of them sharing a wistful glance.

Merlin despised those rumors. They tied his stomach in knots and nausea slicked to his throat. It’s not that he was ashamed of being with the king, but the fact that people thought he’d tainted him took away his comfort. He didn’t like to know what the people thought about when he saw them together; he didn’t want to know what images ran through their heads. And Merlin distanced himself once more, much to the king and queen’s dismay.

Gwaine was the worst. Gwaine would poke and pester at Merlin, asking about Arthur and asking about Gwen, pondering aloud what they were like in bed jokingly. It put bile in Merlin’s throat and left the knight oblivious as to why the king would often pull him away from Merlin whenever he engaged in conversation.

At one point, it had gone too far. Merlin avoided even looking at Arthur with any sort of feeling behind it, afraid of what words might reach his ear. So, Arthur called the knights to a meeting and told them of Merlin’s discomfort. Guilt could be seen in all of them, especially Gwaine who was the first to leave, eager to make amends.

 

 

“So,” Gwaine had said as he joined Merlin in the armory one evening, “what _do_ you do?”

“What?” Merlin questioned, pausing in sharpening Arthur’s sword. He looked hesitantly up at Gwaine, hand shaking and eyes wary. He’d despise to hate the man’s company, knowing all too well what most of his conversations were centered around.

“Well,” he sighed, “if you’re not giving yourself to Arthur than what do you do? You’re together, that’s obvious. But what do you do if not . . .” He trailed off, remembering that it was a delicate subject for Merlin.

The boy still seemed wary but he turned to Gwaine then, allowing some trust to return to the knight. “Romantic things, I guess,” Merlin huffed, returning to his work.

“So, like,” Gwaine mused, “bringing him flowers and such?”

Merlin scoffed. “No. No, he doesn’t appreciate flowers all that much.”

“Then what?”

“Well,” Merlin began, shifting nervously in his seat, “you’ve seen us kiss. That’s the biggest thing we do. They’re always small ones though. I don’t like . . . well . . . We hug, sometimes . . . not as much as he’d like, I think. And we talk.”

“About what?”

“Ourselves mostly,” Merlin sighed. “We talk about Camelot and destiny and what the future might bring, what we hope it will bring.”

“And what of the nights when you stay with him?” Gwaine asked. He immediately regretted it though and bit his tongue, hoping he’d not upset his friend again.

To his relief, Merlin smiled. “We just _sleep._ That’s it. And . . . it’s nice.”

“What of you and Gwen?”

“We’re just friends,” Merlin admitted. “Close friends but just friends.”

 

 

After that, things went back to normal. Merlin and Arthur were hopelessly in love, Gwen and Arthur were undeniably intimate, and Gwen and Merlin were the best of friends. There were still those who thought differently of Merlin, things that made him uncomfortable with anyone who did not know him well, but he found comfort with his friends.

But then everything came crashing down.

 

 

There was a grand feast in the palace a year later, celebrating the anniversary of magic returning to the lands, and Merlin was the guest of honor. Arthur sat between Merlin and his wife at the head of the table. Merlin shrunk in on himself whenever a servant would fill his glass, feeling entirely out of place, sitting amongst the nobles, especially with what Gwen was rambling on about.

“I know it’s out of custom, even for Camelot, but I feel that Merlin should be included.”

“But what would that make him?”

“Well, I’d assume it’d make him prince.”

Merlin spat out his wine and choked on the dribble that trickled down his throat. Arthur laughed at him as Guinevere continued.

“It’s only fair, Arthur. You love him as much as you do me.”

“Honestly Gwen,” Merlin sputtered, trying to compose himself, “I’m happy just being a servant.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you should be wed,” Gwen restated. “If the rumors from France are accepted than having two spouses is hardly abnormal.”

“Are you comparing me to marrying a horse?” Merlin exasperated as he tried to shoo away the servant trying to clean up his mess.

“No, no, it’s just . . .” She sighed. “I think the people would accept it more if it were on paper.”

“Look, Gwen,” Arthur argued, seeing that Merlin was too busy being a clumsy idiot with the servant to do so himself, “Merlin has enough unwanted attention as it is. If he was made _prince,_ or even just a husband to the king and queen, he’d be a walking target for assassination. Think about it. He’s a peasant bastard with magic in a multiple person relationship with the king. It’s safer for him to be unofficial, that way his name stays quiet and he’s out of harm’s way.”

“Arthur,” Gwen cried jokingly, “Merlin will never be out of harm’s way. In fact, I think he sees it his duty to step _in front_ of harm’s way.”

Arthur chortled at that before he was distracted by the servant who was fussing over Merlin.

“Oh, I am dreadfully sorry for this great mess,” she said, wiping at the table furiously.

“It’s alright! It’s alright!” Merlin babbled, trying to take the cloth form her as she lifted his goblet to wipe under it. “It was my fault! You don’t have to do that!”

By then, Merlin’s face was bright red and his cheeks were hotter than the sun, he was embarrassed so much. Finally, the maid finished with her scrubbing and retreated to dispose of the cloth.

“That was odd,” Arthur commented, looking after the girl. “Most of the servants know not to bother with you, Merlin.”

“I’ve never seen her before,” Merlin added, nervously composing himself.

“Neither have I,” Gwen mentioned.

“She must be new,” Arthur concluded. “Someone will be sure to tell her of her mistake when she comes back. All the other servants were giving her looks.” He scoffed, finding the whole situation amusing.

But Gwen still had her suspicions and she warily looked over at Merlin whilst he picked at his food, avoiding the wine as usual, as advised by a certain old man that didn’t take too kindly to dealing with a drunken magician.

Later in the night, after Merlin had eaten some scrumptious but terribly dry tarts, Merlin leaned forward and took a refreshing sip of his drink. However, it did nothing to clear his throat.

It wasn’t until after a few moments that Arthur realized that Merlin was choking.

“Merlin?” he questioned, leaning over to look him in the eyes. “Merlin, look at me!”

And Merlin did through eyes that were screwed up in pain as he held one hand around his throat and another grasped the table.

“Gaius!” Arthur screamed, as Merlin began convulsing in his seat. He lifted Merlin to the ground as gently as he could and Gaius was beside them in seconds.

“Step away from him, sire!” Gaius warned as he took a cloth and placed it under Merlin’s head, wrapped up like a pillow.

By then, Merlin’s eyes had rolled back into his head and he was thrashing about violently, small choking sounds escaping his lips.

Gwen stood up in alarm and hovered next to her husband. “Someone find that maidservant, now!”

Arthur looked back at her with wide eyes. “You think it was her?”

“The wine was fine before she touched it,” Gwen explained, looking back down at Merlin with fret.

“Will he be alright, Gaius?” Arthur asked over the commotion that went on around them.

“Possibly,” Gaius muttered, rummaging through his medicine bag.

“Possibly?” Arthur sputtered.

“I am still not certain as to what type of poison was used,” Gaius said.

Merlin’s convulsions turned to twitches and Gaius deemed him safe to touch without hurting him. He knelt down beside him and checked his breathing. Nothing. Then, he forcefully held his ward’s jaws open and trickled a potion down his throat, massaging his muscles into swallowing.

There was a gasp and a sputter and his dazed eyes flew open.

“It’s alright, my boy,” Gaius ushered, rubbing his hand up and down Merlin’s arm. “Arthur, help me bring him to my chambers. And bring that goblet, Gwen!” he added.

Arthur did so and Merlin was placed gingery on his bed. Gaius came bustling in behind them with supplies. He treated Merlin the best that he could, hydrating him and putting him to sleep before he turned to his research as he took the goblet from the queen.

Arthur sat over Merlin, Gwen by his side, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest.

“Gaius will have him patched up in no time,” Gwen assured.

Arthur bit his lip. “This is exactly the kind of danger I put him in, keeping him so close.”

“Don’t say that,” Gwen told him. “You know he doesn’t care about the danger he’s in. He _loves_ you Arthur, just as you do him.”

“That’s what worries me,” he muttered.

 

 

The girl was revealed to be working for Morgana, having infiltrated the castle by posing as a servant and uttering spells over Merlin’s drink as she cleaned him, enchanting the wine to boil at the drinker’s throat.

Gaius was able to diagnose the problem easily enough and, though it took Merlin a while to regain his speech and normal eating habits, he made a full recovery after weeks of eating nothing but paste and cooled broth, medicated to prevent his throat form healing closed. With a little help from magic, any evidence of the attack on his life was completely gone.

That didn’t stop Arthur worrying though.

“You don’t have to do this,” Merlin complained as he chased after the insistent king.

“You nearly died, Merlin,” Arthur growled. “I cannot let that happen again.”

“Not even _you_ have your own _personal guard!”_ Merlin huffed, utterly exhausted with Arthur. “I hardly think it’s necessary. I can protect myself as well as you.”

Arthur spun on his heel and stuck his finger in Merlin’s face. “You did a sore job of protecting yourself when you were wriggling on the floor!”

Merlin looked down the length of Arthur’s accusing finger and into his eyes. “I’ve been through worse, you know that.”

“And what if she finds out that you’re Emrys?” Arthur continued, paying no heed to Merlin’s excuses. “What then? She’ll have every assassin in the land out for your head!”

“Arthur, please,” Merlin reasoned as the king stormed off again. “Don’t you think this is a bit extensive after just one mistake?”

“One mistake that could have ended with a cold, dead body in the stocks,” Arthur muttered, his mindless threat making no sense through his rage.

“I don’t want this! It’s ridiculous!”

Arthur whipped around again, causing Merlin to stagger back against the wall. “Don’t tell me that helping you is ridiculous! You can’t keep being so selfless all the time or you’ll throw your life away! You’re off gallivanting into danger, protecting everyone else, but who’s protecting _you_ Merlin?” Arthur was pressed up against Merlin, so uncomfortably close, using his size to his advantage to win the argument. He pressed one hand against Merlin’s shoulder, pinning him there while he went on. But, when he finished, he noticed the tears in Merlin’s eyes and the way he squirmed beneath him, trying to sink into the wall and escape the touch that was far too hot against him. He could feel Arthur’s warm breath on his ear and hear his heart hammering with desperation but he didn’t want to. He was too close and all Merlin wanted was to _get away._

“Merlin,” Arthur breathed in regret, realizing what he had caused. “Merlin, Merlin, I’m so sorry.” He pushed himself away from him and watched helplessly as Merlin swallowed his discomfort and averted his eyes. “I just . . . I can’t lose you. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if you died because of me.”

Merlin nodded quickly, looking at Arthur’s boots rather than his face, his ears red with embarrassment. Then, when it seemed he could handle the tension no longer, Merlin walked away.

 

 

No one saw Merlin the next day. It was as if he’d vanished entirely the moment he’d walked off. Arthur was readily preparing search parties when Gaius and Gwen both advised him not to. They all knew that, if Merlin did not want to be found, he wouldn’t be.

He appeared a few days later, walking through the city gates of his own accord. Gwen ran out to meet him, having been worried sick that something might have happened. No matter how much she told Arthur that he would be alright, she couldn’t bring herself to entirely believe it. Now that he was safe within Camelot, she lost her composure and cried into his shoulder.

“I was so worried for you Merlin! Arthur wouldn’t tell anyone what happened and I didn’t know if you would ever be back!”

Merlin hugged her, holding her close so that he could whisper reassurances. “It’s alright, Gwen. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I just . . . needed some time.”

Gwen looked up at Merlin with a smile and pressed on. “Arthur hasn’t spoken to anyone since you left. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. The people, they think you’ve enchanted him!”

“I’ll speak with him,” Merlin replied before he kissed her gently on her hairline, like a brother would a sister.

 

 

Merlin entered the room, met with Arthur’s back as he stared out of his window.

“You’re back,” he uttered, not turning to meet him as he closed the door.

“Yeah,” Merlin breathed, taking a step into the room. “Had to come back sometime.”

Arthur’s shoulder’s bobbed as he took a deep breath. “I almost didn’t think you would,” Arthur mumbled as he mouthed his knuckle.

“Please,” Merlin sighed, “you’d be helpless without me.”

Arthur replied with a humorless huff. “I was.”

“So I’ve been told,” Merlin agreed, venturing further into the room.

Then, Arthur turned to reveal weary eyes and a sad expression. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Merlin swallowed, the loss in Arthur’s voice tearing at his heart. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Arthur instantly refused. “No, you don’t apologize. Not for this. This was my fault.”

Though it was obvious that Merlin did not agree, he slowly nodded.

“Why did you leave?”

“I . . . I thought I needed time.”

“You _thought?”_

“I hated it,” Merlin admitted. “But . . . I stayed away because I thought . . . I thought you needed time too.”

“Why?” Arthur questioned, shaking his head.

“To think,” Merlin stated.

“I’ve done a lot of that lately,” Arthur muttered.

“You haven’t slept,” Merlin noted, gesturing to Arthur.

“Neither have you by the looks of it.”

Merlin shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispered.

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed, almost wanting to stop him from apologizing.

Arthur reached out his hand to Merlin and it lingered hesitantly in the air for a few moments before he snatched it back, not trusting himself to touch Merlin.

“I shouldn’t have . . . I didn’t mean to . . .” Arthur stammered, shaking slightly. “I should not have _invaded_ you like that. I had no right to.”

“It was an accident,” Merlin mumbled, shifting on his feet.

“Don’t act like you’re not angry,” Arthur hissed. “You made it clear that you were when you went and wondered off like that.”

Merlin averted his eyes.

“Merlin,” Arthur sighed, coming slightly closer, “what if something had happened? No one would have known where you were!”

“I wasn’t angry,” Merlin said, looking back up at his king.

“What?”

“I was . . . overwhelmed. I knew it was an accident but . . . but I just felt like . . . like something was gone, in that moment.”

Arthur stared sadly back at Merlin, eyes big and blue and bright with tears. “I took away your safety,” he concluded. “I unrightfully stole your comfort. I’m sorry. I’m _so, so sorry,_ Merlin!”

Merlin shushed him and pushed all of his previous grudges aside. “It’s alright,” he assured, stepping forwards and pulling Arthur into a hug. “It’s fine, Arthur. I’m fine now. I forgive you.”

And Arthur cried into Merlin’s shoulder, much like Gwen had. Only this time, Merlin cried back, both of them silently trying to hold themselves together.

 

 

Night approached and they eased themselves into bed. They slept alone that night, without the company of Gwen, as they always had, facing each other but never touching, being content with just the knowledge of the other’s presence.

But something was different this time. Merlin was different. He opened his bleary blue eyes and looked at Arthur’s peacefully sleeping face. Then, his eyes fluttered down and he smiled, an idea groggily forming in his half asleep mind. Slowly, he reached out his hand and carefully entwined his fingers with Arthur’s, wanting to feel him be there with him.

Arthur stirred and blinked at Merlin just in time to see him smile warmly back before shutting his eyes again. Arthur looked curiously down at where their hands were entangled. He grinned at the gesture and brought Merlin’s hand to his mouth before lightly kissing the back of his fingers. Then, he let his arm go slack and he fell asleep, Merlin’s hand in his.

 

 

Gwen woke them in the morning with a tray of fruitful breakfast. The three of them dined together like the lovers they were, laughing cheerfully at their reuniting. They talked on and on about the future and what they’d hope would become of them. They shared their dreams and mixed them all together in a giant concoction, creating one big, bright foresight for Albion.

And every night after that, when Merlin was welcomed to share the bed, while Gwen rested on Arthur’s chest, Merlin’s hand would be in his, keeping him connected, keeping him safe.

“You can’t blame them for giving us looks Arthur,” Gwen laughed. “Even _we_ find our _arrangement_ complicated.”

“We’re not normal, any of us.” Merlin smiled, a bit giddy.

“I don’t give a damn if we’re _normal,_ Merlin,” Arthur replied. “And if what we have is too _complicated_ for them, then they’ll just have to keep their nosy heads out of _our **relationship.”**_


End file.
